


What if you're just someone I want around?

by Perfectdream



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Angst, Break Up, Fluff and Angst, Happy Ending, M/M, Old Friends, Post-Break Up
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-18
Updated: 2020-11-16
Packaged: 2021-03-03 03:07:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 19,058
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24257896
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Perfectdream/pseuds/Perfectdream
Summary: It had been years since they broke up when Louis decided to walk away without any explanations.But, one night, here he stands, on Harry's doorstep.What if it had been a mistake? What if he wanted to make things right?That's what Harry secretly hopes.
Relationships: Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson
Comments: 2
Kudos: 52





	1. 1. The encounter.

**Author's Note:**

> It's been years since I wrote something about those two but tonight I felt like it was the right time. 
> 
> This has not been beta read so I'm sorry for any mistakes I might have made. 
> 
> Hope you enjoy it. Leave a comment :)

The day was quiet and warm as Harry was sat on the balcony of his London apartment, looking at the skies as he was sipping his tea lazily. The clouds were waltzing around elegantly, circling around each other, almost like two persons flirting awkwardly. He smiled. The pale morning sun was slowly getting high enough to bathe him in its light. Harry put his cup of tea down on the small wooden table that he had purchased years ago, always picturing himself like this, leisuring on his balcony, enjoying the sun and not stressing about anything or asking himself what he will have to do during the day. Nothing mattered in this moment. Nothing and no one.

The birds chirpping in the trees in the surrounding gardens and in the park facing him were making it even better. This morning was a good start of the weekend. Harry was off for a few weeks : no photoshoot, no tour, no shows. Nothing and he had to admit that he was looking forward to it. To simply be him. To have the luxury to learn how to be a normal man in a pretty normal life. It was a sunny saturday and Harry thought to himself that maybe, just maybe, it could be the start of something good.

He sighed in delight and closed his eyes. There was something inside him that made him feel lighter, smaller in a way. As if he had shrunk in the wash. As if his limbs weren't dangling on his sides anymore. A better version of himself in a way. This thought made him open his eyes. Blinded by the sun he squinted, not looking away. He enjoy the view from his apartment so much. It had been one of the main reason why he had chosen to buy this one instead of the bigger one he had also visited on the same day. Something spoke to him when he had seen the building. The big white building had been exactly what he had envisioned when he made the decision to buy his first home in London. The long and large window overlooking the park were perfect. The kitchen was a dream with all the white cupboards and the black worktops with an isle in the middle were he could cook or even sit while writing songs. This was were he had written most of his last album : sat on the worktop – his mom would have been so crossed had she seen him do that ! - a cup of tea next to him. He liked to write there or laid on the floor in the living room or his bedroom. His sister always made fun of him for owning some nice and expensive pieces of furniture and always end up on the floor or on surfaces not meant to be sat on.

When his tea was too cold to be drunk, Harry got up and stretched like a cat in the sun making some cute noises. He walked to his bedroom while humming a song he hadn't written yet. He always had words floating around in his mind but this time he wasn't eager to put them down on paper. Harry wanted to enjoy the creative process of nourishing his inspiration for weeks or even months and see what could come out of it instead of always writing it right away on the fear of loosing it.

It took him twenty-five minutes to decide what he would wear today. His high-waisted brown trousers with a ribbed tank top and a cheer white and yellow shirt – unbuttoned, of course. He felt good like this. He decided not to brush his hair and let it be. It was a warm end of the morning as he stepped out of his apartment. The air was heavy with the smell of the blossoming lilac trees in the gardens. Harry breathed it in profoundly. Spring was probably his favorite season. Or maybe it was autumn. He couldn't really decide. The streets were crowded and so colorful. Harry loved the area in London for the colors, the laughter, the smells and the proximity of all the small shops where he loved to stroll around without any purpose. It felt like being back home in northern England but still be in the capital.

Harry wasn't afraid of being recognized in the streets. Or, to tell the truth, he didn't care of being recognized. He loved to spend time with the persons who loved his music, it was always enriching to speak with them, to listen to what they had to say. Mostly, they were respectful of him and his private life. Sure, it had happened a few times that some fans had knocked on his door but not that much to be honest. And Harry believed in second chances so he had always opened his door, smiled and explained why it would be nice to not occur again. And it hadn't.

Harry wandered in his neighborhood with a smile tugging on his lips, his heart beating calmly inside his chest. It was a perfect spring day.

\- **Oh you're back, Mister** , said a small voice that he almost didn't hear because of the music he was listening to. Harry took out his earphones and turned to his right to be face to face with an elderly woman, her hair totally white, elegantly styled in a _chignon._ She was the owner of the small cheese shop he used to buy all the french cheese he liked from. Harry had to admit that he loved her accent as much as the products that she was selling.

\- **Yes, I am. How are you, Miss Fontaine?** He asked politely.

The woman blushed a little, turning her face to the side with elegance to try to hide her cheeks from his view.

\- **I'm fine, thank you for asking. I'm pleased to see you back** , she beamed. Harry smiled even more.

\- **I'm pleased to see you too, Miss Fontaine** , he said with a small wink.

The elderly woman turned on her feet to hide her face in her hands. Harry liked to tease her. He looked around the small shop and sighed in delight. All the small bouquets of dried lavender she had disposed on every corner of the room reminded him of the south of France. Miss Fontaine was a french woman who had came to England almost forty years before to marry the love of her life who, unfortunately, had changed his mind and married another woman. Evelyn Fontaine had decided to stay and started a new life in a new country. Harry had discovered her story by talking to her on each of his visits. Sometimes, when they both had time, they used to sit and drink tea together. Harry would talk about all the places he had been to and Evelyn would teach him some of her favorite french recipes.

\- **Would you care for something to eat?** She offered, walking to the back of the shop with her happy gait. It seemed as she was bouncing on the sole of her feet.

Harry looked at his watch without thinking. It was almost twelve thirty and he hadn't eaten anything this morning. The truth was that, even he had eaten ten minutes before, he would still accept the invitation.

\- **With pleasure.**

Evelyn walked to the door and put on the sign to indicate that the shop was now closed and invited Harry to follow her through a wooden door leading to the part of the house where she lived. Harry looked around eagerly, wishfully thinking he could redecorate his apartment with the same old furniture he could see. He loved the style of the house, it looked very french in a way he could not explain.

\- **I made something easy, sorry it will not be a fancy lunch, my dear** , she apologised as she put two plates and cutlery on the table.

It was on old wooden table with porcelain tiles in the middle. Harry asked if he could help but Evelyn clicked her tongue and showed him a chair. He sat down. The elderly woman went to the kitchen and came back with a pan of _ratatouille._ Harry smelled it, it was like being back on holiday as a kid in the south of France. She went back to the kitchen and came back with the dessert that she placed on the side of the table. Harry didn't know the name of it but he knew he liked it. It was a bun with cream in the middle.

\- **What is this called?** He asked as she was putting some _ratatouille_ on his plate.

Evelyn looked at the dessert and smiled.

\- **It's a _tropézienne._ In honor of the town Saint Tropez**, she replied patiently.

She loved to talk about her birth country and Harry loved to listen to her. For two hours they sat and ate while discussing everything that had happened since the last time they saw each other. Harry talked about his tour, all the cities they went to, all the craziness, the screams and the passion. Evelyn talked about the people in the neighborhood, about the winter which was really cold and the spring that had finally came. She mentioned all the flowers which blossomed in her garden. She spoke about her sister who still lived in France. She even confessed that she had met someone. An old gentleman who came to her shop almost every day for months before having the courage to talk to her. She blushed while explaining their first date and Harry could not love her any more in this moment. He finally stood up, thanked her for everything and went out of the shop, not without asking to meet this man in the coming weeks. Evelyn walked him to the door and waved at him for a few minutes while Harry walked down the street.

The sun was warmer now that it was nearing the beginning of the afternoon. The streets were calmer and Harry enjoyed wandering around for a few hours, buying some fruits and vegetables and some flowers to put in his kitchen. It took him two more hours before he walked back into his apartment, his hands full of bags and his heart full of joy. He put everything away and went to his bedroom to change into sports clothes. Harry wanted to go for a run. That was something that he missed when he was on tour. Sure, he ran on the treadmill almost every day but it was not the same as running in a park, smelling the dirt, the flowers, the trees. Harry loved the nature.

His mom called him so it was almost dark out when he went for his run. The park was emptying by the minute, the cold beginning to come down. It took Harry a moment to find his rhythm back but it was like riding a bicycle : it came back naturally. He ran for almost an hour. He wanted to do some more but it was really dark out now so he decided to go back to his house, at a slow pace.

Harry stopped as he neared his door, a dark silhouette standing next to the frame. Harry stopped, hesitated and then walked to the door.

\- **Can I help y....** , Harry stopped abruptly without even finishing his sentence.

Because right here, in front of him, was standing Louis. Louis, his ex-boyfriend, ex-bestfriend, ex-coworker. Louis, his ex everything, who decided to put a stop to everything they were without any explanation. And it took Harry years to overcome the hurt and deception. And accept the fact that he hadn't been enough to make Louis stay. And now, here he was. Standing next to his door, looking at him in the eyes, no signs of a smile on his face. Harry put the key in the lock, opened the door and hesitated to just close it in Louis' face. But Harry wasn't this kind of person. He was a firm believer in second chances, even in those moments.

\- **Would you like to come in?** , he asked as he invited Louis in with his hand.

Louis walked in without talking and Harry asked himself why he had done that. It could not go well, that was a certainty.


	2. 2. The confrontation, kind of.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've gone back to work, but I'm hoping to finish this story in the next few weeks. 
> 
> I hope you like it :)

Awkward would have been an understatement as they walked quietly in the entryway. It was so quiet that Harry jumped as the floor creaked under Louis' foot. It was an old wooden floor that creaked in some places but Harry had learned where not to step on. Louis hadn't. Louis was in his apartment and it was unbelievable. For years Harry had hoped and wished for this to happen. Now, he was only confused. What was Louis doing here?

Harry lead the way to the kitchen – was there any more neutral place where you could face your ex-boyfriend? - as they stayed silent. Because Harry didn't know what to say. He didn't even know if his mouth or brain were still working. At this point, everything was possible. Out of habit, Harry put the kettle on and took two cups out of the cupboard, his back turned to Louis. Milk out of the fridge, milk in the cups, milk back in the fridge, boiling water in the cups, spoons to stir the tea and milk together. That were the only concrete things he could think about that would not drive him mad with the sentence ' Louis' here' circling around in his empty mind.

As Harry turned around, Louis was sat on a chair, at the table in front of the windows which overlooked the park. Never in a thousand years would have Harry imagined this scene this morning as he was drinking his tea on the balcony.

\- **Milk and no sugar** , he murmured as he put the tea on the table next to where Louis was sat, his eyes glued to the floor, no words escaping his mouth.

Harry started to feel jittery, too big to fit in this small room, smothered by the tension surrounding them. How should they start this conversation? Was there even a conversation to be had? Harry only had one question : why? The rest could stay as blurred as it actually was, he didn't care. But why did Louis decide to burn all the bridges between them so suddenly and never turn back to see if Harry was still standing or already dead? It hadn't made sense then, it still wasn't now. But was it really Harry's role to start the discussion, to put the subject on the table?

He decided it was not. Harry waited for a few minutes, and, as Louis remained silent, Harry walked to the living room and sat on the couch. None of that made any sense. The doorbell startled Harry to the point that he nearly dropped his tea cup, only a few drops landing on his running shorts. He put the cup on the coffee table and walked to the door, his heart beating like crazy in his chest. Was it because of Louis or because of the doorbell, he couldn't tell. As he opened the door, he was faced with Penny, his neighbor. She looked worried but smiled.

\- **Hey, Penny** , he saluted.

\- **I'm sorry to bother you, do you have some flour to lend me, please?** , she asked her voice loud enough to be heard at the end of the apartment, before she continued in a whisper. **Actually I don't need any, I was just worried. I saw a strange man waiting by your door earlier and I wanted to make sure you were okay. Are you, okay?** , she inquired, her eyes looking at every part of Harry's body to see for herself that he was not injured.

Harry laughed louder than he intended too, but it felt good to let go of the tension.

\- **Oh, Penny, darling, how I adore you !** He exclaimed to the blond woman facing him.

He stepped forward to hug her.

\- **I'm okay, yes. Thank you for checking up on me. It's okay, I know him.** Harry explained.

Harry asked himself how much of this affirmation was true. Did he really know who Louis was? He had known who he had been, but now, they were total strangers. Not even acquaintances. Not even rests of something they used to be. They were nothing to one another and this idea did kind of hurt in a way Harry thought he had forgotten a long time ago.

Penny looked at him, still concerned, but smiled.

\- **Okay, so I'll leave you alone, darling. Have a good night and call me tomorrow, just to be sure** , she said as she turned around and walked back to her house.

Harry didn't have time to ask her what she meant with 'just to be sure'? Be sure that he was still alive? Be sure everything was okay? Harry thought about it as he trod away back to the living room. There was no sound to be heard in the whole apartment. Harry imagined Louis still silently sat at the table but, contrarily to what he expected from himself, he wasn't feeling bad for the other man. He had spent years feeling sorry and searching excuses for everything Louis might have ever done in his life. He was done with it. Harry drank his now luck warm tea and left the cup on the coffee table. If Louis wasn't going to talk, too bad for him. Harry decided to act as if he was alone in this apartment and went to the bathroom as he would have done coming home after an hour long run. The only difference is that, this time, he locked the bathroom door to take a shower.

As the hot water was trickling down his body, loosening his tensed muscles, Harry started to feel anxious, stressed about the fact that Louis was, indeed, in his apartment. It would be so easy to forget about everything and fantasize that they were still a couple and Louis was visiting after Harry's tour ended. But it was foolish and Harry was not a kid anymore. He could face the truth. And Louis' presence wasn't his to explain nor accept. It was the other man's role to finally speak out.

It started to get kind of late as Harry was lying on his back, on his living room's floor when he thought he heard something so he paused his music and listened closely. There was no sound, nothing and a thought popped in his head suddenly. Had Louis left? Harry's heartbeat fastened and he stood up fast enough to feel dizzy for a few seconds as he ran to the kitchen. The room was dark, Louis had turned the light out. Harry's trembling hand landed on the light switch. There was no one in this room, only a cup a cold tea on the table where Harry had put it earlier in the evening. Louis was nowhere to be found. Harry looked through his whole apartment but Louis had left, for real. Again.

The was no trace of his stay except from the cup in the kitchen. Harry hesitated about letting it there for as long as it could without smelling bad. Not a good idea. He would wash it the coming morning. Now he just wanted to go to bed. He picked up his phone which was still on the living room's floor and went to his bedroom. He loved this room. It had a lot of large windows which let the moonshine fall onto his bed, suffusing him with what he imagined as fairy dust.

\- **I can't believe he just left** , Harry exclaimed as he took all his clothes off and let them fall on the floor. He climbed into bed and sighed. This day had been crazier than he could ever imagine.

He took his phone and typed a text to his mom and sister on their group chat.

_“ Louis was at my house as I came back from my run.”_

As the little dots were indicating, his sister was still awake, and writing.

_“ Did you leave him outside to die?”_ , she asked with a devil emoji.

Anne seemed to be awake too and she was replying faster than Harry could type an answer to his sister.

_“ Gemma ! Be nice !”_ , Anne wrote and Harry smiled. He had always known who he had taken after for his kindness. Gemma was as nice as them but she was more capable of hiding it behind a mean demeanor.

_“ I'm being nice, I didn't ask if he tortured him, which he should have done years ago.”_

This time she added an angel emoji and Harry could picture her face so easily. Her eyes squinted as her lips would purse. She had loved Louis almost as much as Harry had. She had considered him as her brother for years and everything he had done had broken her heart too. Even if she still pretended not to care. Harry and Anne knew that the wound was still open and bleeding.

_“ What did he say?”_ , Anne wondered.

_“Nothing. He sat for hours in my kitchen and then left without saying goodbye.”_ , Harry explained.

It seemed surreal but it was exactly what had happened. Like a scene from a movie.

_“Psycho...”_ , that was Gemma.

Anne typed for a few minutes, then stopped and resumed typing for a while. Harry figured she was erasing and beginning again, not sure about what words to use. Anne had been very distraught as Louis has decided to walk out of their lives for good without even giving them a chance to an explanation. Louis had been so loved by this family for years. He had been Harry's boyfriend, Gemma's second little brother and Anne's second son and in a second he had been nothing to any of them. Anne had tried for years to call him without ever getting a call back. Harry had never heard her say it but he knew that her heart had broken too. In a thousand pieces.

_“ I'm sure it must have taken him every ounce of courage he could muster to come to your house. Maybe he thought he could talk to you and finally couldn't? Did you try to call him or even text him?”_

Harry had not tried because, truth be told, he had not thought about it at all

_“ No.”_

Gemma was typing again, faster than their mom, her anger making her care less about her choice of words.

_“ Good riddance, if you ask me.”_

_“We're not, darling.”_ , Anne answered calmly.

Harry turned to his side, his phone still in front of him as if it could bring him all the answers he needed.

_“ Why come to Hazza's house if not to talk to him? That's stupid.”_ , Gemma was camouflaging her hurt with an abrupt surface they could all see through. But no one told her. She needed to feel strong and her anger was what made her stand strong for her brother. He knew she would softened if he really felt bad.

_“ Nobody has the answer except for Louis.”_ , Anne added in wisdom. Harry had to admit that this was the best response he could receive. Nobody knew anything but Louis. But Louis had left, and Harry fell asleep with the small flame of hope burning again in his heart even though he tried his best to put it out.


	3. 3. How does it work, then?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's taking me more time to write those chapters than I expected. It's gonna be a one chapter per week kind of story, I guess. 
> 
> Hope you enjoy :)

The next few days passed in a whirlwind. Harry tried to occupy his mind as much as he could to not dwell on the fact that Louis had waltzed back into his life for a few moments then disappeared again as if Harry had not been anything more than an old toy discarded on the floor after a new one had been bought. Harry felt forsaken. Lonely and sad. He had tried to go for walks, write songs, go for runs in the park – he now could recite by heart every bumps on every trail – and he, obviously talked a lot with his family. Gemma had been calmer and Anne couldn't understand any of it.

Harry had asked himself if he should try to call Louis. A part of him was screaming to just do it. That it was just Louis. And yet, it had not been 'just' Louis for a long time. Everything they had had for years was now nonexistent, gone with the wind. There was no part of Louis that Harry still knew, understood nor wanted.

For a long time, Harry was sure about one thing : if Louis decided to come back into his life, Harry would let him without any hesitation, in the blink of an eye. But not anymore. Harry was an adult, he was stronger and more sure about him and every choice in his life. Louis trying to demolish it would not happen. What if what Louis wanted was not, actually, try to ruin Harry's life?

Coming home from his neighbor – and friend – Penny, Harry was lost in his thoughts, some lyrics coming at him so he tried to remember them as he had nothing to write them on. His phone ran out of battery earlier in the evening, and was now lost inside his pockets, somewhere. Harry tried to hum the melody to make it stay in his mind until he was home and could record it. He was nearing his house when he saw – once again – an hooded silhouette sat next to the doorframe. Harry stopped for a split second then resumed his walking. He opened the door, stepped inside and, as he was about to close the door, he spoke.

\- **You'd better come inside if you don't want Penny to call the cops on you. You look creepy, you know?** , he said calmly.

He let the door ajar as he walked to the kitchen to make them two cups of tea. It was the only thing that could make this whole situation a bit more normal than it was. He heard the door being closed and nothing after that. No creaks from the wooden floor, no steps. Nothing. As if Louis had left – again ! But Harry could sense him, on his skin, on the tip of his tongue. He couldn't see him, nor hear him, but he could feel him. Louis was here, in the kitchen.

Harry was right, he saw him sat on the same chair as a few days prior, his eyes glued to the windows. The view was amazing with the park being lit by the street lights. Harry put the cup in front of Louis.

\- **Thanks.**

It was a whisper but it startled Harry as much as a gunshot would have.

\- **It's okay** , Harry answered.

Was there anything else to be said?

Harry leaned against the kitchen isle, his cup clasped between his hands. It stayed silent for a few moments during which Harry thought it would be exactly the same as it had been the last time. He expected – or feared, maybe? - Louis to stand up and walk back out of the apartment and Harry's life. Louis' frame seemed more fragile than Harry could remember but, then again, it had been more than five years since the last time they had been together. Harry could still picture Louis' face as he had called it quits. He had stood in front of Harry, holding his hands, looking deeply into those green eyes he had always claimed to love, he had breathed in deeply and finally said it. It was over. Everything was over. Their love, their friendship, their bond, their future. Louis had said it calmly, his voice not even trembling. He had let go of Harry's hands and walked away. It had been over in seconds. And Harry's heart had crumbled to the floor in a million pieces. Years after Harry wasn't even sure that all the pieces had been put back together. It felt like there has been something missing for quite a while but Harry refused to aknowledge that it could have anything to do with Louis. It couldn't. Because that meant that Louis still had some power over Harry's heart and life after destroying them both a long time ago. And Louis could not have this power. Harry couldn't admit it. Couldn't live with this idea that Louis had still a place in his life and in his heart, like a little niche where everything had stayed put for years waiting for Louis to come back.

This was not real.

It could not be real. Harry closed his eyes really tight and took a deep breathe. He opened his eyes again but Louis was still here, his back facing Harry. His silhouette seemed thinner but more muscly in a way. At least, it seemed that way in the darkened kitchen, by night. Suddenly, Louis stood up and turned to Harry, his face unreadable. He seemed so sure and yet so frightened that Harry didn't know what to do or what to expect. Louis took a step forward, making his way to the other man who put his cup on the kitchen isle, simply to have his hands free in case he could hold Louis against him one last time. He wasn't aware of why he had put it down, or even why his heart was beating so fast inside his chest. The only thing he was aware of was that Louis was moving slowly towards him and that now he could smell him.

Louis smelled of cigarettes, cold wind, detergent and perfume. His perfume was different from last time. Louis smelled of happiness, memories, freedom and love. Louis smelled of Harry's ideal and it was worst than everything Harry had imagined or anticipated.

\- **What do you want?** , Harry asked, using all his will to form words with his mouth which didn't seem to work anymore.

Louis stopped in his tracks, his eyes still glued to Harry's. A storm appeared in his blue pupils, making him look even more lost. He was astray in a room he didn't know. Astray in this moment that he couldn't comprehend.

\- **I don't know** , Louis admitted, his voice croaky from the lack of things said since he had arrived here.

Harry opened and closed his mouth a few times without saying anything. He opened it again but this time, he managed to say what was eating at him slowly.

\- **You... don't know? What do you mean, you don't know?** , Harry gasped from the breathe he didn't know he had been holding for a few seconds. He breathed deeply two or three times, trying to stay calm and unaffected by Louis' closeness.

Louis shrugged and stayed silent, stepping closer to the other man. It seemed as if there was so much space between them and so little at the same time. It appeared to take a while for Louis to come stand in front of the taller man, and yet it was going too fast for Harry to handle it. He wanted time to stop right now and freeze them both in their places. Louis could not come closer because Harry was not sure how he could react. He didn't want to know.

\- **You have to know ! You have to have something to say ! You disappeared years ago to reappear in front of my house two times already so you have to know what you want ! You can't just pop up in my life and pretend that you have no idea why you're standing in my kitchen right now !** , Harry exclaimed, his breath ragged, he was loosing his patience and his calm at the same time.

Louis took his last step and stopped right in front of his ex-boyfriend. There were only a few inches between their two bodies. Louis could probably feel Harry's air as he was talking. Harry could feel everything that was Louis on and under his skin.

It was like finding his drug back. Harry was febrile, not in control of anything.

\- **Harry...** , Louis whispered, holding his hand in the space between them. Harry wanted to run away, to scoot back but he couldn't : he was trapped between the kitchen isle and Louis' body. He couldn't move unless he pushed Louis back, which meant having to touch the other man, and Harry wasn't sure he had it in him to touch him and not pull him to his chest.

\- **Don't** , was the only thing that Harry could mutter.

Louis' gaze was alternating between the other man's eyes, trying to decipher something that had not been said already. An invitation maybe? A sign that Harry was about to scream bloody murder. Something to contradict what Harry was speaking. Everything was blur. Maybe they could not understand each other, which seemed logical after so many years apart from each other.

Louis pressed his body against the taller man's. His hands were dangling alongside his body, his eyes still watching Harry's reactions. They were connected only by their tummies. And it was already too much. Too much connection, too much tension. Too much everything. Harry gasped again, fighting to breathe properly. Air was rare in his lungs. Louis was too close. Louis was too much.

Louis was here. Against him. Back in his life.

\- **Don't** , Harry begged. His voice was so small that he wasn't even sure he spoke out loud.

Louis put his hand on the other man's face, his thumb caressing the unshaven jawline. His movements were so calm, so tender that Harry wanted to cry. Cry because he had craved this touch for years. Cry because it could not be real. Louis could not be back for good. Be back to stay. It could not be real. And, unless it was real, it could not be enough for Harry.

Harry could not handle to break the same way he had broken a few years ago. He had not it in himself to loose Louis another time. What they had had was the kind of relationship that happens only once in a lifetime and the hurt coming from the separation was the same kind. Harry could not handle it another time, he was sure of it. He would probably die from it.

\- **Harry** , Louis murmured and the way his mouth was forming the words was like listening to the appeasing sound of the rain against a window. Everything about this moment was made to be perfect – but it was not. Harry could not breathe properly. His skin was burning where it was connected to Louis'.

\- **No** , Harry answered.

His eyes could not look away. He was drowning in those blue eyes he had adored for so long. It was excruciating to stand here, to contemplate all the what could have beens, all the dreams they had had together. Everything had been shattered to pieces by Louis. And here he was now, and Harry was not sure what he wanted.

\- **You've changed so much, and, at the same time, you've stayed the same Harry I've know for years** , Louis whispered in amazement. He was admiring every part of Harry's face, his thumb tracing every inch it could reach.

Harry's heartbeat was faster than it ever had been before. He wanted to cry from relief and shout in anger at the same time and all those emotions mixing inside him made him feel lost, unable to react. He was standing there, praying that Louis would stop touching him, praying that Louis would never stop touching him. There was so much tenderness and... love? In every contact between them. It didn't make any sense. Harry closed his eyes. If Louis decided to walk away now, Harry didn't want to see it.

\- Harry, oh, Harry, Louis continued to speak, his voice low and sirupy. Like he was talking to himself more than talking to the other man.

Which was a good thing because Harry was sure he could not answer.

\- **I've missed you so much** , Louis added, closing his eyes, his thumb nearing Harry's lips.

That's when everything clicked inside Harry's mind. All the memories, all the tears, the weeks and months he had spent looking out the window hoping that Louis would come back. But he never did. Harry pushed Louis away from him gently, a few meters now separating them. Louis was baffled, his eyes open wide, his mouth ajar. Harry took two deep breathes in to make his ideas clearer.

\- **You've missed me? How about you tried to call me? Or even came to see me and explain what had happened? You missed me?** , Harry exclaimed, laughing humorless while walking back and forth in the kitchen.

The room was still dark, only the moonlight shining in through the windows overlooking the park, enough to see Louis' face, enough to hide Harry's turmoil.

\- **You must be joking !** , Harry' voice was getting louder by the minute, his anger exploding inside his chest. He couldn't contain it anymore. He had waited for more than five years to finally have a chance to demand answers.

Louis took a step back, going back to where he was sat before.

\- **What are you doing here?** , Harry inquired, standing still, his eyes darting lightnings at Louis. His hands were on his waist, looking like his mom waiting for an answer when he had been a kid.

\- **I told you, I don't know** , Louis hesitated.

Harry growled, turned on himself to put his hand flat on the kitchen isle, his back facing Louis. The smaller man took his chance and walked toward him, hoping to calm Harry. As he was about to put his hand on Harry's shoulder, he stopped dead in his tracks as the other man's voice resonated in the room again.

\- **Don't you dare touch me again !** , Harry was furious now, his voice gravely and hard. **Don't you dare act like everything is normal. You being here is not normal, Louis, you have to know that. You walked out on me, on every one of us, years ago and you expect me to wait for you and accept you when you want to come back? That's not how it works**.

This time Harry was calmer. His anger had gone and now his hurt was present. This hurt that had still not healed over the years was bleeding again and Harry didn't know how to react, what to say because Louis being here could be the start of something new or the closure he had hoped for. Louis being here could be the healing he was needing. But in which way?

\- **And how does it work, then?** , Louis inquired, his voice a little less tender than it had been before.

Without looking, Harry could picture the other man's face : eyebrows raised, lips pursed, eyes curious. He slowly turned around and was not disappointed. Louis was facing him, his arms crossed over his chest. He seemed disorientated. Like a boat without its compass and Harry could relate.

\- **How does it work? It's quite easy : you do not abandon people without any explanation and waltz back into their lives uninvited years later and pretend like it was the normal thing to do** , Harry enunciated, calmly despite the storm raging inside his soul. He wanted Louis to be gone. He wanted Louis to be his again. He wanted Louis so much, in any form possible. He needed him in his life. But he couldn't say it – he shouldn't even think it to be honest.

Louis turned around, walked to the windows and looked outside for a couple of seconds which seemed to last for hours or even years. They were both silent and immobile, statue like, and everything was silent around them. Deafeningly silent, like the calm after the tempest. Harry resumed to his position against the kitchen isle. That way he could look at Louis. The smaller man cleared his throat a couple of times.

\- **It's not that easy**.

Harry sighed. Louis turned to him.

\- **I was hoping I could sleep here tonight, if you don't mind** , he said slowly, hesitantly.

Harry shrugged because the truth was that he did mind, actually. But holding onto Louis for as long as possible seemed to be the only thing plausible in that moment.

\- **You can sleep on the sofa in the living room. There are pillows in the wooden trunk, and a blanket on the chair. Make yourself comfortable. Goodnight** , Harry spoke quickly and left the room as soon as he was finished. He could not stay and think about what was about to happen. Louis was about to sleep a few meters from him and it was too much to process.

Harry went to his bedroom and sat on the floor, looking at the stars in the sky. He took his phone out of his pocket and charged it.

“ _Louis is sleeping in the living room. I'll explain tomorrow. Goodnight you both <3_”

He wrote a small message to his mom and sister and went to bed. This day did not go as planned at all.


	4. 4. I intend to let you be hurt and console you afterwards.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been a while... I know ! 
> 
> I'm now on holiday for two months and I have a new computer so this story should be finished in a few chapters. 
> 
> Hope you still enjoy it :)

“ **What do you mean Louis slept in the living room?** ”, Gemma, Harry's sister asked over the phone.

The ring was what woke Harry up way earlier that he intended to. Eight o'clock seemed a little early for a Saturday so Harry had answered the phone with his eyes still closed. He shrugged.

“ **Harry?** ”, Gemma said when she got no answer.

Harry realized she could not see him so he would have to speak for her to have an answer to her question.

“ **I can't make it any simpler than what I wrote last night. He was at my door again, and asked to sleep here. I told him to sleep on the sofa** ”, Harry explained, his voice heavy from the sleep and his eyes still closed.

“ **Hmm** ”, that's what Gemma said and then went silent. Harry thought that maybe she had hung up when she talked again. Her voice was low and careful. Harry knew that voice : Gemma was thinking and hurt.

“ **He went to your door to ask for shelter?** ”, she puzzled and Harry could visualize her face as she spoke : her brows furrowed and her lips pursed.

“ **He’s not some abandoned animal, you know?** ”, Harry countered.

He decided to finally open his eyes and sit in his bed, his back against the bedframe. The light coming in the room from outside was a sign that the sun was already up in the sky so it was not as early as Harry would have thought, even though he would have liked to sleep a little more. But what could he say to his sister?

“ **He’s worse.** ”, Gemma muttered, stubborn.

Harry remained silent for a few seconds, lulled by his sister’s breathing on the other side of the line. The small clouds were dancing in the blue skies and Harry could not look away because in this moment, sat in his bed, his sister talking to him, life seemed easy, simpler than it had been for a few weeks. Harry sighed.

“ **He’s not that bad, Gem, and you know that even if you pretend that you don’t. I guess I just thought… maybe he was back for me? I know it’s totally stupid…** ”, Harry confessed, slowly letting everything sink in. It was subconscious. A part of him was hoping for a second chance no matter how.

Hoping that maybe this time everything would go as planned. That this time Louis would stay around.

Hoping that this time Harry’s heart would not break in a thousand pieces.

Gemma seemed to be calmer because her voice was soft when she finally spoke again.

“ **You’re not stupid, Haz. It’s okay. I understand.** ”, she said and then paused for a few seconds. “ **I guess I don’t want to be hurt again.** ”, she hesitated.

Harry smiled even though the subject was not lighthearted, but his sister was finally admitting something he had known for months, even years. Gemma had been so hurt by Louis that she was trying to make herself think that she didn’t care, even though she did.

“ **Isn’t life and love about being hurt but trusting that better things are coming ahead?** ”, Harry questioned and he heard Gemma snort.

“ **You are the only one thinking that way, you know? I’m not the kind of woman who will ask to be hurt again because I trusted life to bring me better things. I’m the type of woman who creates what she wants to have.** ”, Gemma countered, her voice still light and soft. She was not angry.

Harry laughed out loud, his laugh filling the room for a few seconds.

“ **Yes, and what are you intending to do about this current situation?** ”, Harry inquired, a smile tugging at his lips.

“ **I intend to let you be hurt and console you afterwards.** ”, she enunciated.

Harry laughed even louder. Gemma’s voice had given her away : what she really intended to do was show up and be hurt with her brother if that was what was about to happen. Because she loved Harry a great deal but she loved Louis almost as much and any chance to have him back in her life was a chance she did not intend of letting go away. She was not that kind of woman. Harry knew that and he loved her even more for that. He smiled.

“ **I love you, Gem. I’ll call you soon.** ”, he stated and hung up after his sister had told him that she loved him too.

Harry was blessed enough to have been born in a family where he could express all his emotions without being limited and with a mother and a sister who were always willing to express theirs as well. Harry put his phone on his bedside table and stood up. Because Louis was still in his apartment and maybe they needed to speak about everything that had been silenced for many years.

He put on some clothes and walked down the stairs, with a lump in his throat in anticipation. What if Louis had gone away, again? What if he had decided to go and never come back this time? Harry was not sure if he could face it again. But maybe he could and maybe it was meant to be. This idea was not comforting him but he would have to face it if it was supposed to happen that way. Harry’s pace was hesitant as he neared the living room.

The room was empty with the covers neatly folded on the sofa with no trace of Louis anywhere to be seen. Harry’s heart stopped for a few seconds before he heard some noise in the kitchen : some mugs clinging together.

Harry walked in the kitchen to find Louis making tea and pancakes. It was a scene that Harry had imagined for many years. It was what his future should have looked like. It was what he wanted to see every day for the rest of his life. In this moment he was not angry at Louis anymore. He was hopeful.

“ **Oh you’re awake already** ”, Louis said as he saw Harry in the room.

Harry shrugged because he didn’t know what to say and was not even sure if his voice would express what he really wanted to say without blurting an ‘I love you’ in the middle of it all.

“ **Good morning** ”, Louis added, a shy smile on his face.

Harry smiled back.

“ **Gemma woke me up when she called me on the phone.** ”, Harry explained even though Louis did not ask for any explanation. Louis raised a brow. He opened his mouth but seemed to estimate it wiser to not say what he was about to. Harry walked toward the table where Louis came to put down the tea cups. They sat facing each other in silence for a few moments until Louis finally talked.

“ **How is she?** ”, he quired, his eyes only looking at the table.

“ **She’s good.** ”, Harry answered, then proceeded to continue, “ **She’s really mad at you, even after all those years.** ”.

Louis looked up to meet his eyes.

“ **I assumed** ”, he admitted in all honesty.

Harry wanted to be mad at him too, to simply scream him to get out of his apartment and out of his life for good. But he couldn’t. Louis had always had this power over him. A power that Harry was more than willing to give him, to be honest. It was something that Harry had never fought. It was obvious.

“ **You can’t really blame her.** ”, Harry added calmly. Louis sighed and drank a few sips of his tea which was starting to get colder. Harry was playing with his cup, maybe to simply occupy his hands.

“ **I thought…** ”, Louis started but stopped, ill at ease, fidgeting on his chair. Harry stopped his hands and stood still, not really knowing what was about to come. Louis took a deep breath and resumed talking. “ **I thought you would be mad at me too, and I would have understood perfectly. I never thought you would have welcomed me back into your life.** ”, this confession was the beginning of all the things which had been kept unsaid over all those years and Harry felt like he was on the verge of crying or vomiting, he wasn’t sure which one would come first. But one thing was for sure, it was too much. Because all those emotions he had felt for years, had been his to hold and now was the moment to let them be free and admit that everything was real. That everything had been true. There was no way to pretend that it had been only a nightmare. Harry had been broken, his heart had been turned to pieces cruelly by his best friend. And all the future hopes Harry had nurtured for them both had been blown away. The hurt was still here even though the wounds were mostly healed.

“ **I am.** ”, Harry countered but then changed his mind. “ **I was. Until you came back.** ”, there was nothing else to add for now because Harry knew that if he said more there would be no turning back. Was this road the one he wanted to follow? Was there any safe place where this road would lead them to? 

“ **So you’re not mad at me anymore?** ”, Louis questioned, perplex. Harry took a sip from his tea to give himself some time to really think about it. Was he still mad at Louis? What was it called the way he was feeling right now? Was there even a word appropriate to express all this entanglement of feelings lodged in his chest?

“ **Most of the time I’m not. But there are moments when I can’t deny that I’m quite mad about this whole situation with you.** ”, Harry confessed, candid about his emotions. Louis didn’t look away but he didn’t look guilty either. He was simply sat here, watching the younger man talk to him about a situation that Louis himself had created.

“ **Okay** ”, was what Louis said and Harry asked himself if this was enough. Louis had to say more, had to explain why. But did he? Was it really that important for Harry to know in details what had happened, why had Louis decided to walk away from him? Would it change what had happened? Would it bring happiness to Harry and his family? The young man was not sure so he did not ask anything else. He drank his now cold tea and stood up to wash the cup.

“ **I’ve missed you** ”, it was a whisper but Harry heard it. It resonated in his chest like thunder. It rolled all over his body, warming up every bit. Harry did not know that he was cold until he discovered again what it was to hear those words from Louis’ lips.

The taller man did not turn around, he stayed stood in front of the sink, the water closed, his hands still wet clamped on the side of the sink. It was too much and not enough at the same time. Louis was giving a small piece of Harry’s heart back but it was not enough. Because Harry had mended his heart a long time ago and that small piece was not apart of the puzzle anymore.

Nobody said anything after that. Harry had decided to not answer and Louis seemed to think that Harry had not heard it.


	5. Chapter 5 : Look at me.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Those chapters are becoming longer and longer. I hope it's okay. 
> 
> This chapter has not been beta'd, so I apologise in advance for any mistakes. 
> 
> Hope you enjoy :)

The next few weeks rolled in a smooth way, no one from the two men really thinking about what was happening. Harry refused to think about it because each time he only started to fathom it all inside his head he had felt an anxiety attack coming. So he decided to put it aside for now. And Louis did not speak about it at all. He had went, one afternoon, to pick up some clothes and had come back to Harry's apartment. They had not talked about it, nor decided together that the older man would still stay here but it had happened. Louis was staying at Harry's place for now.

He still slept on the sofa because letting him sleep in the guest bedroom was a step Harry was not ready to make. It would mean that Louis was back for good and a small part in Harry’s heart was still expecting him to walk out of his life like he had done years ago without ever explaining why.

Life was sweet, Harry still went to the market twice a week, he ate with Evelyn Fontaine, the owner of the cheese shop in his street, went for a few runs and wrote down some songs. The rest of the time was spent talking, watching movies, eating, and enjoying each other’s presence. It was nice but something was becoming strange to Harry : Louis would not go outside with Harry no matter the reason. Louis had gone to pick up some clothes but he never went outside. And Harry thought it weird because, now, they were not as followed as they were a few years back when they were still a member of the biggest boyband of all times. Now they were just Louis and Harry.

Maybe Louis didn’t want to be seen with Harry.

This thought was starting to come back more and more as the days went by, leaving a sour aftertaste in the younger boy’s mouth. It was like a small voice inside of Harry's head, screaming louder and louder; he could try to make it silent, it was not working. The voice was stubborn, saying over and over again that Louis was here to hide from something and not because he was still in love with Harry after all this time.

Harry was sat on the floor of his living room, writing on his laptop while Louis was playing on his phone, lying on the sofa. The younger man turned his head to watch at his friend. Was Louis a friend? Was he back at where he had been before? Were they friends? Harry shook his head because the voice was insinuating that it had been only in Harry's head and that Louis was not in love with him at all, not even friends with him. Harry was starting to feel his heart breaking – which was stupid, he knew that- but couldn't control it.

“ **What's wrong, Harry?** ”, Louis asked suddenly.

Harry noticed that he had stopped everything and was simply looking at the other man, his eyes full of doubts, maybe.

“ **Nothing** ”, he muttered, going back to what he was working on. It was something special, a story to go with some of his new songs. He had imagined it in a new way : his voice speaking alongside his singing one. To put the story of each one of his songs into words and share it with his fans. Now eveything seemed to go back to Louis, but Harry was not ready to write about him. Not again. He knew how it felt to pour his feelings into songs for someone who did not care... It hurt like hell.

Louis put his phone away and sat straighter to look at Harry's eyes.

“ **Tell me, Harry. Talk to me, please?** ”, Louis hesitated which was weird in itseld because Louis had always been the mature one, the one not afraid to voice his thoughts, to express when he disagreed with anyone. And now he was so unsure of what to say, or how to say it. Harry looked away. The light in the living was amazing, everything seemed covered in fairy dust under the sunlight pouring inside the room from the big windows. Harry felt like, maybe, he needed fairy dust too.

“ **It's okay** ”, Harry whispered, trying to make his voice more sure than he really was. The small voice was now screaming inside his head and his heart was beating way too fast for it to not mean anything. Maybe it was right? Maybe there was a part of him that knew already that there was a part of truth in everything it was saying?

It was hard to admit but, a tiny part of him, hoped, against all logic, that this meant something. Hope was not a good thing.

“ **Harry, I know you, and this face you're making is your ' I don't want to bother you but something's eating at me' face. So, out with it. Talk to me.** ”, Louis cajoled, his eyes soft and sweet. Harry wanted to go to him and sit next to him, put his head on his shoulder and let it all out. But he could not do that. He had already done that once and, he could still feel it, the hurt that came after was the worst of his life. Even the fact that the band parted had not hurt as much. Louis was bad news. And yet, Louis smelled like home, seemed so warm and handsome. It was becoming more and more difficult to act like it was normal and like Harry did not want him like he had years ago.

“ **What are you doing here?** ”, it took a few moments but Harry finally formulated what he really wanted to know. Louis pursed his lips, his eyes looking at the ground and back to Harry's face.

“ **Where is this coming from?** ”, was what Louis ended up saying.

Harry closed his laptop with annoyance. He put it on the coffee table, next to his tea mug and turned to be face to face with Louis. There were only a few meters between them and the sunlight still pouring inside the room made Louis' eyes more blue than ever. Harry had to admit that, yes, the other man was even more beautiful now, with unshaven beard and longer hair. Harry would like to stand up and go kiss this man that was – and had always been – his fantasy.

“ **It's coming from me asking myself how long this will go on?** ”, Harry questioned, his eyebrows raised as high as possible to show that it was a genuine question and not just small talk. Louis seemed unconfortable, shimying on the sofa but not looking away.

“ **I'm not really sure.** ”, he finally clarified, his hand playing with his jogger's fabric on his knees. His legs were crossed, his feet covered with white socks hidden under his thighs. Louis seemed smaller, less sure. The velvet covered sofa appeared to be bigger, eating half of Louis' body. It was weird because Harry felt like he was the lost one and yet, Louis looked like he was on the verge of fainting or crying.

Harry cleared his throat twice, his fingers toying with the carpet's threads, looking away to calm his heart and his urge to crawl over to Louis and kiss him better. It could not happen. It had to not happen, for Harry's sake. That's what he was repeating to himself inside his head, trying to silence the other small voice telling him that Louis would never love him anyway.

“ **I'm going to Mum's in a few days, so...** ”, Harry paused, his voice now a whisper. He had to say it. Nevertheless, he hoped that there was another way that he had not thought about yet. A way that could make everything better and healed both their hearts. Actually, not heal, because Harry was healed, he was sure of it.

“ **Oh.** ”, Louis said, and the silence claimed the room for a few minutes, leaving the two men unsure of what to do or say. Harry was still debating the good thing to do. Louis seemed like he was planning his next move. But none of them opened their mouth.

“ **I'll go. It's okay.** ”, Louis spluttered, standing and looking around the room as if he was searching for his belongings. Harry did not expect this reaction. He did not mean for Louis to leave right away. He wanted an answer and this was not it. He stood up also, facing his friend. They ended up looking at each other with nothing to say. Because Harry did not know how to articulate what he was feeling and thinking. Louis looked lost, stood in the middle of the living room as if the room was too big for him, as if it was a maze he had not seen before.

“ **It's not...** ”, Harry stopped his sentence, his throat too tight to express correctly what he wanted to say.

Louis did not move, looking like a dear in headlights, his eyes searching for answers in the other man's stare. There was so much tension and things left unsaid between them that the air was heavier that it was a few minutes before.

The sun bathing the room was not only warming everything, it was highlighting Louis' traits, his collarbones peeking out from his large tee-shirt, making his eyes shine, shading his jawline and cheekbones. It was making it harder for Harry to restrain himself. Too hard for him to stay there, so Harry was the first to move : he walked out of the room to go to his bedroom.

Arrived upstairs, Harry put his back to his closed door. He needed to breather because everything was too much to handle. Would it be a good idea to call his sister on the phone or will she only laugh at him because it was a long time coming. There could not live together for weeks without one of them feeling attracted to the other. It had been utopian thinking to believe that it could work, Harry knew that. Did he really needed for Gemma to express it? Maybe not. He was feeling stupid and childish. Did he really believe that this had been a good idea?

Actually, no. Harry had never thought this would be a good idea but could anyone blame him for hoping? Louis had been his love for so many years, what he had felt for him would never be felt again, Harry was sure of it. It had been a once in a lifetime kind of love, and his guts had been twisting as soon as Louis had walked back to his apartment, his heart hoping while his brain was telling him to rationalize things, to remember how everything had ended up the first time.

There was a raging war inside his soul and Harry was not sure who was on the verge of winning right now. He was not, that was for sure.

The knock he heard on the door made him jump even though it was shy enough to not be heard if there had been any noise in the bedroom. Harry was heaving, trying to calm his heartbeat and his racing mind imagining multiple scenarios where Louis always ended up confessing his love to his lost bestfriend.

Harry opened the door with hesitation : Louis was there, standing in the corridor, eyes full of certitude this time. He walked a few steps, enough to stand in the doorway, preventing Harry from closing the door if he even thought about it. Harry was not thinking at all. Harry held the door open long enough for Louis to step inside the room, his scent now floating around the bedroom Harry would have liked to stay bare from Louis' presence. It was like a cocoon, where Harry could heal as slowly as he felt like, where he could be as vulnerable as possible.

Louis took the last steps between them, standing a meter from the other man, his eyes searching for Harry's. His perfume was surrounding them, filling the room and making Harry feel dizzy. It was too much. Louis staying in his apartement was something but the reason why Harry had not allowed to sleep in the guest bedroom was because it would be too real. Louis standing in his bedroom was even more real, too raw to handle properly right now. It was like a dream and a nightmare at the same time.

“ **I'm gonna go** ”, Louis murmured, his voice a small whisper as if, he too, felt like this situation was too important to speak loud and clear. They were in a small bubble which could explode if they were too loud. Harry blinked a few times like he was battling tears. Harry put his back against the door again, maybe to prevent Louis from walking away again, or maybe to simply gather his strength.

“ **You don't have to go... I mean not right this instant.** ”, Harry explained, also whispering.

Louis looked at him, his blues eyes burning from a new fire. The curtains were half closed in the room, the light subdued making the room look more intimate, something Harry was not sure was a good idea. Everything about this situation was new : Louis here, in his bedroom with this thunder rumbling inside his chest arguing him to just go and kiss the other man. It would be so easy and such a relief to taste him again. Was it really a good idea? Harry was still debating with himself when Louis came even closer and put his hand on the other man's cheek. The fire burning inside Harry's guts became even brighter, warming him up in every corner of his body.

“ **It's okay, Haz.** ”, Louis breathed, so close that Harry could feel his breath on his lips. The nickname was back and Harry's heart heard it too, beating even faster before. Louis' thumb caressed Harry's face softly, slowly, like he was writing his feelings on the other man's skin. It was too much but not enough at the same time. Harry wanted more, wanted less. Harry wanted Louis so much in this moment that it was hard to even speak, formulate any words other than ' I want you'. Harry was not even sure he could pronounce it right.

Louis' thumb stopped his movements, staying righ under Harry's left eye, his other fingers caressing the skin under the other man's left ear, the nape of his neck. This level of intimacy between them was new. For the last weeks, they had lived together but there had been no touch, no closeness. This was like going back in time. Harry closed his eyes because he could not look at Louis. There was a warmth inside his chest, next to his heart. His lips seemed heavier than before, the air coming inside his lungs too hot. Louis' hand was igniting so many little fires bewteen them. Harry asked himself what it would be if they kissed.

Harry clenched his hands into fists, to not grab Louis' teeshirt, to not loose the small self control he still had.

It was too late : Louis came even closer and put his chest to Harry's, joined by their bellies. Harry thought his legs would give out underneath him but it did not happen. Louis was here, right against him, this thought was circling inside Harry's mind.

“ **Look at me.** ”, Louis pleaded, his intonation softer than it had ever been since he was here. Harry shook his head. He could not look at the other man's without loosing everything. Harry was not ready to fall again.

Even though, if he was honest with himself, he had already fallen weeks ago when he had allowed Louis to come inside his apartment. This had been the first step and now it was too late to turn around and change his mind. Louis was here. Louis was touching him.

Harry opened his eyes slowly. And the answer to the question he had not even mouthed was right in front of him : Louis' eyes were saying it louder than any word could. Louis was in love with Harry. There was no doubt. It was written in his blue pupils. It was screaming at Harry without any word.

“ **I'm here, Harry. I'm here.** ”, Louis professed and what Harry heard was ' I love you'. He wanted to answer, to say it too. But he was not ready. Not right now.

Louis put his other hand on Harry's waist, maintaining the younger boy even closer to him if possible.

“ **It's okay** ”, Louis whispered again, his breath landing inside Harry's mouth. It was like tasting him again.

Harry looked at the older man's eyes, one by one, slowly, panting. Could this be really happening? Was this real?

Louis' hand went to the back of Harry's head to pull him down to his lips and kissed him slowly, shyly. It was just a touch of their lips, not a real kiss. It took a few seconds for Harry to process what was happening, his hands alongside his body, his mouth not even moving. And then it made sense : Louis was kissing him.

Harry laced his hands in Louis' back and hold him closer, making the other man groan in the kiss. Harry opened his mouth, moaning when Louis' tongue came to touch his. The younger man let his hands came lower, on Louis' ass, pressing himself against the other man. It was even better than everything Harry had imagined for years. Louis tasted sweeter, more sour than he remembered.

Was it already that powerful to kiss Louis when they were younger? Harry could not remember. This kiss felt like novelty. Feeling Louis' body underneath his fingers, against his own body, it was excruciating and redeeming at the same time. This kiss was almost cleaning all the hurt from the past.

Louis tiptoed to kiss his friend even deeper. Harry put his hands under Louis' ass and held him up, turning to put Louis' back against the door, Louis hooking his legs around Harry's waist.

The kiss had stopped and started again, only to allow them to breathe in a bit of oxygen – even though they did not care about it in that moment. Louis raked his nail across Harry's back, making him moan so loud that he broke the kiss, putting his face in the older man's neck.

“ **It's okay, baby.** ”, Louis whispered, breathless. Harry whined because it was too much, it was too important to kiss Louis again without having an explanation. Harry felt dizzy but not dizzy enough to not ask what was eating at him.

“ **What are we doing?** ”, he mumbled, his lips kissing Louis' neck between each word. He could not stay away from his skin, it was like doing drugs again after years of soberness.

Louis caressed Harry's hair. It became slower, more calculated, less passionate.

“ **Nothing, it's nothing.** ”, was what Louis finally said. Harry stopped what he was doing and stepped back, letting Louis' legs fall back to the floor. The smaller man was still with his back against the door, and Harry was standing a few steps away, his eyes full of questions and hazy.

“ **What do you mean nothing?** ”, Harry questioned. His hair was crazy, his lips red and puffy from their kisses, he looked like a mess. So did Louis. But all the fires burning in Harry's body had turned to ashes with one sentence. Louis could not pretend that this was nothing because Harry had read it in his eyes. Louis was in love with him. And Harry could not pretend that he was not in love with him anymore. It had to be something. Louis shrugged.

“ **I have to go. Bye, Harry.** ”, he said it quickly, opened the door and waltzed out of the room in seconds, before Harry could even call after him.

Louis was gone, again. But this time Harry intended to have answers because he felt it, he knew it, they were in love and, this time, it was worth fighting for. Harry heard the front door open and close but his heart did not break because he had a plan. And Louis would be his again.


	6. Louis is outside, actually !

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think this story will have 10 chapters or so. 
> 
> This chapter has not been beta'd, so sorry for all mistakes that may be read. 
> 
> I hope you still enjoy this story :)

Anne sat at the kitchen's table, sipping her cup of tea, watching her boy kneading pastry on the kitchen countertops in front of her. Harry had arrived a few days ago, and this morning he decided that he wanted to bake an apple pie from scratch – who was Anne to interfere?

“ **You seem so peaceful** ”, Anne faltered once the silence had been enough for her.

Harry looked at her and smiled. He shrugged and got back to what he was doing. He put the pastry inside the pan, placed it aside and started slicing apples in slow but precise motions. Anne waited for him to say something but, as he did not, she started talking again.

“ **You do not speak about Louis a lot. I thought.... considering how things went...** ”, she paused, unsure about how Harry would react and if it was too much or even too soon.

Harry stopped the knife long enough to look at his mom.

“ **There's not much to talk about, you know? Louis went away, yet again.** ”, Harry explained even though they had already talked about it when he arrived earlier in the week. Anne stirred her tea to occupy her hands. She was so eager to know more, to ask questions. Maybe in an attempt to reconnect with the boy she had always considered her second son. Maybe in an attempt to anticipate what could happen and how broken she would get her boy back once Louis would have broken his heart a second time.

She was scared but hopeful at the same time which was complex to understand and even handle.

“ **Did he write to you since he left your apartment?** ”, she questioned because, for the first time in a long time, Harry was so elusive with his answers, there were so many things left unsaid about this whole situation.

“ **No** ”, Harry clarified as he put his knife down to step back enough to lean against the countertop behind him, facing his mother. “ **I don't need him to write nor call me. It's okay this time, Mom.** ”, he explained as Anne furrowed her brows. None of that made any sense to her, and yet, she wanted to trust her son. He knew better than her what was going on between them. She wanted to be reassured.

“ **I don't get it.** ”, she admitted, which was the truth. She felt like she was doing a puzzle with missing pieces.

Harry stepped to the countertop with the uncut apples and took his knife back in his hand. He started to cut the remaining apples and place them on the pastry. He looked over to the oven to make sure it was on.

“ **There's nothing to explain. I'm not even sure that I'm right but I have an inkling that, this time, it's going to work, Mom. Like... I don't know, I feel like we'll have a second chance and that it'll work out. Maybe Louis does not know it yet, or he knows it but he's afraid. I did not come to the point where I understand how his brain works, but I'm willing to give it time and fight for our future together when the moment comes.** ”, Harry cautioned under his mom's adoring stare.

Once the pie was in the oven, Harry sat next to her while she pourred him a cup of tea. They stayed silent for a few minutes. Anne admired her son, how his face had changed over the years, how his heart had not. He was still this sweet, patient, loving and caring little boy that made her cry from how generous he was. Harry had always been that way and Anne was so proud that no one or nothing made it any different. Not Louis when he had broken his heart, not the industry trying to alter his good soul to make more money off of him and his friends. Now he was a man and his heart and soul were as pure as ever. Anne was proud of herself for raising such an angel on her own.

“ **If you're sure about it, I guess I just have to encourage you.** ”, Anne hesitated as she reached over to hold her son's hand in hers.

Harry smiled at her, there was so much peace irridiating from him. His calm was the reason Anne decided to totally trust him. She had been there before, she had seen first hand how bad Harry had been hurt by Louis the first time around, except that now, Harry seemed to be in control, to know exactly how to handle things.

As the scent from the apple pie started flooding the room, they spoke about a lot of things. Harry said that the only thing missing from his beloved apartment in London was a small garden, or even balcony where he could cultivate some vegetables, or plant flowers. Anne retorted that in the middle of a big city it was a luxury to have a garden. She also added that he was gone so much during the year that his garden would go to waste – which was an excellent point, Harry could not deny it. He shrugged this idea away. Maybe, one day, he would have a house with a garden. And a husband. Some children also, maybe.

“ **You can still come with me in the garden and give me a hand.** ”, Anne proposed as she stood up to rinse her mug in the sink. Harry stood to check on his pie which seemed baked to perfection as he took it out of the oven. The smell was amazing and made the whole kitchen smell of pastry and apples. Harry set it down to cool.

“ **You wouldn't mind?** ”, he asked. Anne did not even bother to answer him, she simply smiled and opened the glass door leading to the garden.

It was not a big garden, small enough for Anne to take care of it all alone but it was tidy, peaceful and so coloful. Harry took a deep breath, trying to recognize all the smells : the flowers, the trees, the plants and the vegetables growing at the back of the garden.

To the very end there was the small bungalow where they had stated all together at the beginning of the One Direction adventure. Harry smiled to himself in melancholy. It had been such a journey from the early days to now. Niall was successful, which Harry never doubted would happen. Liam was producing music, having found a new passion. And Louis...

Actually, Harry was not really sure what Louis was doing. He had released some songs over the years but nothing too official.

Harry was embracing his true self, in his music, in his choice of clothes. In his choice of friends too. He had the luxury to also choose to whom he would give an interview, stubbornly refusing to fuel the trash journalism that used to try to break them every chance they got.

“ **You can go and have a look around.** ”, Anne said, she walked to the small wooden shed where she kept all of her garden implements.

Harry walked around, trying to identify some sorts of flowers that he was sure to know. The small vegetable garden was starting to look good : all the small green sprouts where starting to come out of the soil. Harry crouched to look at them even closer.

“ **Those are peas** ”, Anne indicated as she stood next to her son, pointing to different parts of her garden. “ **There are strawberries, tomatoes, butternut squashs, eggplants, lettuce. And those little trees over there are blueberries, raspberries and redcurrant.** ”, she explained with pride. Harry raised his eyebrows in surprise.

“ **Wow, that's amazing, Mom!** ”, he exclaimed, really impressed by it all. He remembered the garden as he was younger, there had been flowers but no vegetables. A few years ago, Anne decided to try and grow some tomatoes. The first year had been a failure : all the leaves had gone witted. But she was as stubborn as her childern so she kept trying and that was the results.

“ **I make jam with most of my fruits, and I prepare meals with the vegetables I don't eat. I bring them to my elderly neighbours, or I give them to homeless people I see on the streets. Sometimes I even give jam to the elderly house on the other side of town. They enjoy them a lot, actually.** ”, Anne attested, candid and humble about all that she was doing. Harry was impressed and really proud to be her son.

“ **That's amazing, Mom. You're such a beautiful person.** ”, Harry expressed in amazement.

They took care of the garden for a couple of hours, taking out all the weeds, smelling the flowers, talking to the sprouts to encourage them in their growth. They talked about a lot a things but not about Louis. Around four o'clock they stopped and went back inside, washed their hands. Anne made them tea as Harry cut the pie into slices and put them on small plates. Harry loved that her mom had an entire coffee set with cups, plates, etc... One day he would have the same, in his house, with his fantasy husbdand.

They had just sat when they heard a voice coming from the living room.

“ **If you're eating pie without me, I'm going to scream bloody murder !** ”, Gemma exclaimed as she entered the kitchen with a huge smile on her face. She could not come earlier because of her work. She had called her mom and brother almost every day, to share some moments with them. Now she was here for two weeks. Harry stood and went to hold her really tight.

“ **You're hurting me, you giant baby !** ”, she complained but she hold him even tighter. Anne smiled with tears in her eyes. The relationship between her two children was certainly the thing she was most proud of in her life. Gemma went to hug her mother next while Harry cut her a slice of pie and made her a cup of tea.

They sat and ate the pie, chatting about a lot of things but mostly about they would be doing together for the next few weeks. Harry was on break for some more weeks, he did not know how long. It had been his decision to take some time off, with no hard dates, to simply enjoy life on his own terms. Maybe he would go back in a few weeks, maybe in a few months. Gemma was staying for two weeks, maybe more if she could work from home. Anne was thrilled about it.

“ **Louis is outside, actually.** ”, Gemma said as she ate the last piece of her pie. Anne furrowed her eyebrows, Harry looked at his sister in expectation for more informations. The kitchen was on the other side of the house, overlooking the garden so none of them could have heard nor seen Louis arrive in the front yard, if he was even here.

“ **How do you know?** ”, Harry questioned, hesitating on standing or remaining seated. Gemma was often tricking him. But she wouldn't play with his feelings for Louis. Harry's heart starting to beat faster.

“ **Oh, I saw him in the front yard when I arrived earlier.** ”, Gemma explained calmly with a mischievious shine in her eyes. Anne stared at her daughter wide-eyed. Harry stood but did not know what to do.

“ **You arrived forty minutes ago, Gemma!** ”, Anne exclaimed as she put her hands in front of her mouth, understanding that Louis had been left alone in the yard for a long time. Gemma smiled shyly, a little apologetic but not totally.

“ **I needed to teach him a lesson, I guess.** ”, she answered, shrugging.

Harry left the room without even saying anything. He heard his mom scold his sister. He had to admit that he was not mad at all. It was the kindest thing Gemma could have done to Louis to express her anger. Harry always thought she would punch him the next time she would see him. Leaving him hanging was fair enough and Louis could not say otherwise.

Harry opened the wooden door and there was Louis, standing in the middle of the yard, his eyes to the skies, his hands deep in his pockets. He must have heard the creaking of the door because he looked down to Harry.

They did not say anything, they looked at each other. Louis shrugged with his hands still in his pockets. Harry took a step to the side and invited him inside with his hand not holding the door. Louis was here and it was enough for now.


	7. 7. You're staring.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter took me longer to write because Harry and Louis are quite stubborn and do not want to act as I want them to.... 
> 
> I hope you still enjoy this story. 
> 
> This chapter had not been beta'd.

Awkward was an understatement. Harry walked them back to the kitchen where Anne and Gemma were, the former washing the plates, the latter sipping her tea and waiting to stare at Louis with all the judgment she could muster. Gemma was the feistier of them, standing her ground at almost all costs. Louis' disappearance had been the worst treason she had ever experienced in her life so far and it was too much to ask for her to overlook it and welcome Louis back in her life on his own term. He would have to fight to gain her trust and love back – and she hoped he was aware of that.

Harry entered the room, sat down at the table and hoped for the best. Anne was the first to react : she walked over to Louis and hugged him tight for a few seconds, murmuring things he was the only one to hear. She took a step back and smiled at him. Louis seemed so overwhelmed and thankful for her love that he kissed her twice on the cheeks and once on the forehead.

“ **It's good to see you, darling.** ”, Anne said, this time loud enough for her children to hear. Gemma acted like she was about to puke on the table. Harry smirked, turning his head to the other side to make sure his mom did not see him. Gemma was hilarious without trying.

“ **It's good to see you too, Anne. Thank you...** ”, Louis started to say but was interrupted by Anne.

“ **You don't have to thank me, you'll always be welcome here.** ”, she explained, and, this time, Gemma faked her death by hanging. Harry laughed even though he tried to silence it. Anne looked over to them as she walked back to the sink, glared at them but said nothing.

Louis stayed standing at the entrance to the room, visibly uncomfortable, shifting his weight from one foot to the other, his hands clasped in his pockets. Harry wanted to go to him, hold him in his arms, maybe even kiss him a little. But he could not. Not because his family was here, but because he needed to speak with Louis before, know what it was that was happening between them lately. Louis risk a glance at Gemma who was glaring at him with all her mightiness. The young man looked like a scolded child in front of his teacher who caught him red handed.

The situation would be hilarious if only Harry did not want to have Louis all to himself. He understood Gemma's reaction and was certain that they needed to talk to each other in the upcoming days, to make things clear and maybe even try to become friends again.

“ **Hi, Gemma.** ”, Louis faltered, his voice as loud as he could. Gemma looked away, her chin high.

She finally turned to Louis, pretended to only realise he was here. She stoop up and Harry knew that she was up to no good in the way she was looking at Louis. Like a cat knowing the mouse was trapped and his to play with. The younger man wanted to go help his friend, but, really, what could he say in his defence? There was no excuse, and Harry did not have the slightest idea of Louis' reasons to act that way. So he let him handle his sister.

Louis seemed to understand what was about to happen because he took a step back, broadened his shoulders in an attempt to appear more certain than what he was really feeling.

Gemma put her hand out in front of him, holding it open, waiting for him to shake her hand.

“ **Hello, my name's Gemma, and you are...**?”, she asked, dead serious. Louis blinked a few times, not understanding what she was doing, until he did. It must have been fair because he shook her hand.

“ **I'm Louis. And I'm sorry, for everything.** ”, he admitted, shippishly. Gemma did not say anything more, she walked out of the room but Harry thought it was a good sign that she did not punch him in the face.

Anne sighed in relief. Harry turned to Louis.

“ **Do you want a slice of pie? Made it myself from scratch.** ”, Harry proposed, pride shining out of his face. Louis smiled and sat himself at the table. In a few minutes, the young man had a plate and a cup of tea in front of him. Anne sat next to him, curiosity eating her alive.

“ **How long are you staying?** ”, she asked, eager to make the guest bedroom ready for Louis.

The man swallowed the piece of pie he had just eaten. He looked at Anne, at Harry and back at Anne.

“ **I'm not sure I'm staying at all**.”, he admitted, this time not looking at either of them. Anne pursed her lips.

“ **What do you mean? You're here, Louis. Stay with us a few days, it would be nice to have you here after all this time.** ”, Anne countered quickly. Harry was not sure that emotional blackmail was the way to go with Louis but it was worth a shot. Louis sighed, took a sip of his tea, looked at his hands on the table. Anne was waiting as patiently as she could.

“ **I guess I could stay two or three days if you would have me.** ”, Louis hesitated, his eyes looking for Gemma's silhouette at the door but she did not come. Anne smiled brightly.

“ **Of course, I would have you, dear.** ”, she exclaimed and left the room instantly to prepare the guest bedroom, Harry imagined. They were left alone for the first time since what happened in Harry's apartment and the latter was not sure how to handle things. It was awkward for so many reasons between them. Louis ate his pie in silence. Harry looked at him, discovering his face again. Louis seemed tired, if the bags under his eyes were any indication. His traits were strained, harried-looking. He was still handsome, but more mature, more tired than he had been a week ago. Harry asked himself if the distance between them had been as difficult to handle for Louis as it had been for him. He would not ask him that.

“ **You're staring.** ”, Louis suddenly said, making Harry jump. He was – indeed- staring at his friend and must have been for a couple of minutes without looking away. Harry smiled shyly.

“ **Sorry.** ”, he mouthed, a little embarassed if he had to admit.

“ **It's okay.** ”, Louis assured him, not looking in his direction. “ **Do you enjoy the view?** ”, Louis added, in a whisper, his tone playful. Harry felt his cheeks become a little red. He could play this game too, he could even win it. Nevertheless there were more important things to talk about than the fact that Louis was sexy, handsome and that Harry wanted him even more than before. Instead he said something that Louis was not expecting.

“ **You look tired, unhappy and sad.** ”, Harry enumerated in a non-exhaustive list. Louis stayed immobile for a while, then stood up to wash his mug and plate at the sink, his back turned to Harry. The older man's reaction made it clear that Harry was spot on.

Harry waited for Louis to turn around, yell at him, tell him to mind his own business, or anything of that sort. Except Louis did not turn around. His shoulders lowered.

“ **Hey, I did not want to make you mad.** ”, Harry apologized, coming closer to the sink without crowding Louis too much. They were close but not too close.

“ **I'm not mad.** ”, Louis started, paused for a few moments then continued. “ **You can still read me so well, it's overwhelming in a way. I did not really expect it, and, at the same time, I hoped it would be like before.** ”, he was still looking out the window standing in front of the sink. Harry could see the side of his face but not his eyes.

“ **It's not.** ”, Harry countered.

Louis turned to him, leaning against the sink with his hip, his arms crossed on his chest. He seemed on the edge, two steps away from running away, again.

“ **It's not?** ”, Louis asked, brows furrowed.

“ **We've changed. We're different, so everything is different. It'll never be like it used to be, Louis. You have to accept that. And, actually, was it 'that'? What are you doing here?** ”, Harry spoke slowly, his mouth formulating each word with care. Louis frowned, his mouth pursed as if this question had a sour taste. Maybe it did. Harry was determined to have an answer this time around. It would be too easy to have kissed him, walked away and come back within a week without being willing to answer that simple question.

Which was a legitimate question, actually.

Louis had put an end to their relationship years ago without anyn explanation, stayed away from Harry and his family for some many years Harry had stopped counting – he had not, really, but it was too long anyway – and decided to come back unannounced in Harry's life. But that was not the problem, because Harry would have him back at nearly any price it would cost. Except that Louis stayed at his apartment without explaining any of it, had kissed Harry with so much want and love that the younger man thought they were giving themselves a second chance. Then, Louis decided to walk away, again. And here he was now, looking at Harry like he had a week ago, passion burning in his eyes.

Harry wanted him, loved him, appreciated him in so many ways that it was stupid. Harry felt stupid anyway for falling again for someone who seemed so against falling too. The fall was too much to handle on his own, Harry knew that and, this time around, he was not okay to end up broken all alone. This time he demanded answers. He demanded to understand what was that thing between them.

What was 'that'?

Harry crossed his arms on his chest to mimick Louis' attitude.

“ **What do you want from me?** ”, Harry questioned, his voice soft and warm, his eyes looking at Louis'.

The older man looked away, watching the birds fly around the bird feeder in front of the kitchen's window. He remained silent for too long, bringing Harry to speak again.

“ **I can't risk it all again, you know...** ”, Harry started, stopped to take a deep breathe. It was the moment to put an end to it if he did not have the answers he needed. This time Louis would not win this little game he seemed so happy to play. “ **I've spend years being haunted by you, your presence, your love. Your perfume was something I ended up chasing in the streets each time I would pass someone who smelled like you. I searched for your body in my sleep for years after you had left me. You have broken me, Louis, and I would like you to stop pretending that this did not happen. It did ! I spent years hoping you would come back to me, and I guess I wouldn't even be mad at you. But those years have gone by and now I'm different. I'm stronger than I have ever been and you being back does not mean that everything is forgiven and erased simply because you kissed me. I have to know what it is you want. Or else you can pack your bags and go away. I will survive, I will be fine.** ”, Harry admitted, never looking away from Louis who seemed to fvanish with each new sentence.

Harry stayed immobile for a minute, waiting for Louis to say something. Which he did not do. Harry turned around and walked out of the kitchen when Louis' little voice resonated in the room.

“ **I don't know, is that really that hard to understand?** ”, he exhaled. Normally his tone would be cocky, playful or even arrogant. This time it was lost, scared and hesitating. Harry came back, a few steps away from his friend. Louis looked at him, ghost floating around in his eyes, leaving the man looking on the edge. Louis was so lost and Harry had no idea. Maybe he could not read him as good as he did before.

“ **What do you mean, you don't know? You have to know. I mean, you came to my apartment twice, you stayed weeks with me and now you are here.** ”, Harry countered, trying to make sense of this situation. Louis shrugged.

“ **I stop my brain from thinking and I end up in front of your house each time.** ”, Louis explained, childish in the pureness of his openness. Harry opened his mouth and closed it a few times. Everything was turning in his mind and he was trying to make sense of it.

He walked to his friend, stopped when he was a few inches away, his eyes deep in Louis', their bodies almost touching. Louis tried to take a step back but his back was to the sink, with nowhere to run away to. Harry smiled warmly, which Louis did not reciprocate.

There was so much things between them, things they could not express, were not willing to express or not capable of doing so. Harry was not sure. But there was this fire burning inside their guts, he was sure of it. He could feel it and he was intent on taming it before it burned them down to ashes.

He took the last step between them and kissed Louis with all the passion and want he was feeling. Louis stayed put for a few seconds before he wrapped his arms around Harry's neck. They kissed again and again, tasting the other, touching him with their hands, their bodies pressed together.

Harry stopped suddenly, his lips barely touching Louis', breathing each other's air. It was too much but not enough at the same time.

“ **It's that simple, you see.** ”, Harry confessed, his lips red and puffy. Louis, who had his eyes closed, oepend them suddenly, watching his friend for a while before he pushed him away from him. Harry was lost, not understanding what was happening.

“ **It's not because....** ”, Louis tried to explain but his thoughts seemed to be all over the place. He started walking back and forth in front of the sink, mumbling to himself things Harry did not understand. Harry was angry, he felt like he had been played for a few weeks which made him really mad.

They kissed, it could not be innocent. Harry had felt it, this connection they had each time they touched. Louis must have felt it too. They were meant to be together. What was so complicated about that?

“ **Louis...** ”, Harry whispered, trying to calm the other man. “ **It's okay.** ”

This simple word made Louis more frantic, his hands flying around him as he continued mumbling to himself,quicker and quicker. This did not make any sense to Harry. The latter walked to his friend and took his hand in his. Harry thought it would be a nice gesture to calm Louis. But Louis pulled his away from Harry's. Louis walked to the door, determined.

Harry followed him, across the living room and to the front door. Louis opened the door, turned back to look at Harry. They did not see Gemma and Anne at the top of the stairs leading to the bedrooms. The two women were about to come back downstairs when they heard the hurried footsteps and stopped. Now they could see Louis' face but not Harry. They assumed he was the one Louis' was looking at.

“ **You don't understand !** ”, Louis exclaimed, his voice screechy and shrilly. His eyes seemed mad, looking everywhere around him, not really looking at Harry but not looking away either. Harry was lost for words.

“ **What don't I understand?** ”, Harry questioned.

Louis paused, sighed deeply, looked at his feet then looked back up.

“ **I'm not gay.** ”, he said and closed the door behind him.

In the few seconds it took for Harry to understand and convince his body to move again, he could already hear Louis' car drive away.

“ **I guess he's not staying after all...** ”, Gemma growled from the top of the stairs. Harry, as lost as he was feeling, laughed anyway.

“ **Gemma, be nice !** ”, Anne scolded her. Harry turned around and took a step forward to see the two women still standing on the top of the stairs, he shrugged and smiled sadly to them.

“ **I guess you'll just have me for a few days.** ”, he echoed Gemma's declaration. Anne furrowed her brows, not sure what was happenning in this moment. Harry seemed shaken but okay. Gemma was angry but calm. And Anne was.... not understanding any of it. A dozen of minutes before Louis expressed his wish to stay with them a few days and now he had walked away – again ! - screaming that he was not gay. Which was quite disturbing because Anne could tell him a few of her own memories that would convince anyone that this little boy had been gay for a long time.

She sighed and walked down the stairs with her daughter. They spent the next few days together, laughing, debating, speaking a lot about their lives. And each time she looked at him, Anne saw hope in his boy's eyes.


	8. 8. He makes me escape my mind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been a while since I last posted, I know. 
> 
> I hope you still like this story and I'll try my best to finish it soon. 
> 
> It has not been beta'd so sorry if you find any mistakes. 
> 
> Enjoy =D

“ **That's more like it !** ”, Anne heard Gemma exclaim from the garden where she was lying with her brother, playing Uno cards.

Anne was choping vegetables patiently for lunch. Harry had sat on the grass for half an hour before his sister joined him, almost forcing him to play cards with her. Anne smiled because she knew that, deep down, Harry loved the attention his sister was giving him even though she was trying to compensate the things Louis did to hurt her brother.

Harry was not sad, nor broken as he had ever been before. He was sceptic. What was it suppose to mean that Louis claimed he was not gay. They had been a couple for years. Did Louis want to erase everything they had been? Because that was something Harry was not ready nor willing to do. He could accept that they were not a couple anymore, that Louis did not love him – which he clearly doubted, but okay – but pretend that those years of happiness, tears, laughs, fears, doubts, love and smiles could not be erased. Their love story was not something anyone could throw a veil over and decide that it had disappeared and therefore had never existed.

Gemma and Harry played for a couple more minutes, theirs laughs and exclamations resonationg through the kitchen taking Anne back in her memories. As children Gemma and Harry had spent a lot of time playing together. Being four years older, Gemma had always been a great big sister, looking after her small brother. Harry had enjoyed being the center of attention, although he took care of his sister as much as he could.

Harry's career choice scared Anne : what if distance made them grow apart? Which did not happen. Harry was the kind of man to put his family first and, over the years, he tried his best to be around as much as he humanly could. Gemma supported him in all the ways possible, cheering him on from the very beginning when her brother used to sing in his bedroom or put on some show in their living room.

They were Anne's best achievement in life.

When the olive oil in her pan was warm enough, Anne put her diced onions in and stir it slowly, waiting for it to start cooking. The smell was amazing. It would smell in the kitchen for hours but she enjoyed it. She was about to put some zucchinis in the pan when she stopped and listened closely to what her children were saying.

“ **Are you not mad about it, though?** ”, Gemma had asked.

Anne noted that she must have been so lost in her thoughts that she had missed the beginning of this conversation. From where she was she could hear her children but not see them, which was a weird thing in itself. Because she would have to analyze everything based only on the tone and the words when, normally, she loved looking at her children's faces and read between the lines. She imagines Harry lazily spread on the grass, his long limbs looking like a dismantled puppet. From as far as she could remember, Harry had always sat or laid in weird positions he seemed to enjoy.

Harry's sirupy voice spoke again. Anne put her zucchinis in the pan while listening as much as she could. Those were questions she wanted to ask her son but did not in fear of being nosy. Gemma did not seem to care about that.

“ **No. I'm sceptic. What does it mean, you know?** ”, Harry sounded careless, focused on something else which Anne assumed was his cards.

“ **Yeah..** ”, Gemma answered, her voice unsure.

Anne furrowed her brows. She had always tried to find Louis excuses for everything he had ever done right or wrong, she had tried to protect and love him as much as she could not being his mother. But this time she was clueless as what to answer her son. What did Louis mean? What was the implication of this small sentence which weighted so much, like a burden for them to carry. It was always the same with Louis : everyone else had to carry the weight he threw at them.

“ **It's like rewriting history.** ”, Gemma added, this time her tone clearer, cutting.

Anne pictured Harry slowly looking up from the cards he was holding neatly in his hands, his green eyes looking deeply in his sister's.

“ **Exactly. Am I to understand that I never mattered?** ”, Harry questionned himself more than Gemma and Anne's heart broke as she heard him. She wanted to leave her vegetables and run to the garden to hold her son. She did not. Because this moment and this conversation were important and, actually, she was not supposed to listen even though she knew her children kept no secrets from her. The heart of a mother could carry a lot of grief, she was sure of it, but handle her children's brokenness was a lot. She would give anything to make everything better for both of them. Right now she simply did not know what to do.

“ **I'm not sure, Haz.** ”, Gemma hesitated, as unsure as everybody else was. Anne kept an eye on her pan even though her heart was not in it anymore. She assumed that the cards were long forgotten now, the game in the background of their minds.

“ **I don't know how this could feel to anyone. I mean, if I ever was to question my sexuality, I don't know how I would react. That's not an easy thing to deal with.** ”, Gemma contemplated which surprised Anne. Gemma had spent so many hours cursing Louis' name with anger that Anne never had thought that she would be the one defending the man. She loved him deeply even though she pretended otherwise to anybody talking about Louis.

“ **How could he be questioning his sexuality only now? We've been a couple for years, we've had sex, we've kissed and all that stuff from the very beginning of our story. This seems late, no?** ”, Harry countered, his tone calm and serene. Anne noted that she had to agree with her son. It seemed a little too late but who was she to make the rules over something that never occurred to her?

Gemma took a little time to answer this time, thinking it through.

“ **What if …** ”, she paused, considering if she could say what she was thinking or not. She must have decided that she could because she talked again. “ **What if that was the reason behind your break-up?** ”, she advanced.

Everything seemed to stop in its track. Anne stopped stiring her vegetables, the birds stopped chirping in the trees, even the wind stopped blowing for a couple of minutes. Nobody said anything. Anne thought about it. It made some sense actually.

“ **Maybe.** ”, Harry whispered finally, breaking the defeaning silence around them all.

“ **Do you love him?** ”, was Gemma's next question and Harry took a few seconds to formulate an answer he seemed happy about. Anne listened closely. She already knew the answer. Harry had never stopped loving this boy. She had known it since the very beginning. Harry's eyes were so full of hope and tenderness when he had spoken about that boy he had met on X Factor. The rest had been history. Louis had taken all the free space in Harry's life and heart in a few days, and Anne and Gemma could only witness it. Louis had charmed them as easily after that.

“ **Of course. I've always loved him, from the very beginning.** ”, Harry answered. “ **Everything had made sense between us as soon as we exchanged our first words. When I think about it, it could not have happened any better way. Everything had been perfect for us both, you know? Like it was enough for Louis to be older and take care of me. And for me, it had been perfect to be with an older man. Louis had taught me a lot of things about life, about myself. About my own strength.** ”, Harry talked to himself, or to his sister, Anne was not sure, for a couple of minutes. His voice sounded dreamy, like he was lost in his thoughts or his memories.

“ **How does it feel?** ”, Gemma's voice made Anne jump as all of them had been quiet for a little while. Anne looked at her zucchinis in the pan and wondered why they were not cooked yet, then noticed she had not put the stove on. She did finally and stayed near to stir the vegetables.

“ **It's hard to explain.** ”, Harry said.

“ **What makes you say that you're in love with him?** ”, Gemma demanded, her tone curious.

Harry hesitated for a few minutes, Anne pictured him playing with the grass or looking at the sky, to anchor himself to the nature and what was surrounding him. It had always been his way to cope with emotions, good or bad.

“ **He makes me escape my mind.** ”

This sentence echoed in the silence, only birds chirpping in the trees around them.

“ **What do you mean?** ”, Gemma questioned after a moment of silence. Anne was sure that her dinner would be ruined because all of her attention was now dedicated to what was about to be said in her garden. Her vegetables did not have any importance right now. They could eat cereals after all, could they not?

“ **You know how it is where you're anxious or stressed? You feel like you are trapped in your head, with no way of escaping, all your thoughts smothering you with bad energy? I've grown up with this anxiety creeping in the deepest of my soul, always on the verge of emerging and making me incapable of appreciating life and all its pleasures. You know what I mean?** ”, Harry inquiered and Anne put a hand on her mouth. She had always known that her boy had suffered from anxiety but it was different to be able to picture how it felt in her mind.

“ **Yeah, totally.** ”, Gemma commented and Anne put her hand back on the countertop, both her hands in front of her, her gaze looking out the window. This moment was an amazing one because she could now understand what was going on inside her childen's head but, at the same time, she would give anything she had to take away their pain. She could not.

“ **When I'm with him, when he looks inside my eyes, it goes away. I'm free, I'm me again. This creeping anxiety does not exist anymore. Not because he blinds me to it, but because he gives me the strength to face it and know that I can fight it. He made me understand that I had the power over my life, myself and the world. That makes me say that I'm madly in love with him. Does it make any sense?** ”, Harry finally questioned, a laugh audible in his words. Anne had tears in her eyes when she turned to her stove again, her vegetables overcooked, but, whatever. This love between Harry and Louis had always seemed to be a magical kind of love but now she was sure of it. Louis needed to understand it and accept it another time. Could he really walk away from something like this? Anne hoped he could not.

Gemma must have nodded because the conversation ended there and her children walked into the kitchen an handful of minutes later, their eyes damp but their hearts lighter.


End file.
